


Set Sail, O White Sailship

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: After Marsac's burial, apologies are made, friends are forgiven and songs are sung.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic here, yay! The name of the fic comes from Coeur de Pirate's song Lève les Voiles, which, I imagine would also be one of the songs sung in this story.
> 
> Honestly, I just wrote this fic because I needed Athos and Porthos to apologise for leaving Aramis all alone (and also I remember Lady_Neve asking about how they would apologise so I guess this is the answer?)

Aramis barely managed to reach his room at the garrison before the tears came. He was dripping wet and felt outright miserable as he slid down on the wooden floor, trying to undo his belts and sash so that he could take off his doublet. He wished that someone was there to help him, that he wouldn’t have to be alone. But however much he wanted company, he also wanted an apology from Athos and Porthos who had abandoned him to deal with the worst nightmare of his life all over again. They had known he would end up in the rock bottom, one way or another and all he’d wanted was some support.

He felt like he was truly alone.

As he finally managed to undo his belts and sash and discard his soaked doublet, he moved into the smallest corner of the room where he curled up and began sobbing. There he would be safe, no matter what.

Aramis felt wretched for having shot his friend. His friend who had been at his side for the first five years if the musketeer regiment. His friend whom he had already mourned once. His friend who had abandoned him in the snow with twenty dead musketeers…

He heard some shuffling and someone opening the door as new tears made their way down his face. He felt Porthos’ hand on the back of his neck and Porthos’ forehead leaning on his.

“You’re soaked”, Porthos whispered. “Let me help.”

“We’ll go see if Serge has some warm broth”, Athos’ voice said somewhere further away. “You help him.”

Aramis felt Porthos tugging his arms, helping him to stand up and then wrapping his arms around Aramis as Aramis hid his face on Porthos’ shoulder. He shook in Porthos’ embrace, trying to calm himself down.

“Listen, Aramis, I’m sorry”, Porthos said quietly. “I know you’re not well, so you’ll get a real apology when you’re better, but I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I should have helped you from the beginning.”

Aramis nodded his head against Porthos’ shoulder. Porthos begun making soothing noises while he slowly walked Aramis to the bed and helped him sit down on it. Aramis felt a towel covering his head and heard soft humming as Porthos began drying Aramis’ hair.

Aramis noticed that he felt cold as Porthos began helping the soaked shirt off Aramis. He began shivering and Porthos sent him a worried look.

“Cold?” Porthos asked. “I’ll get you a new shirt in a moment. I have to dry you up; you’re way too soaked for my liking.”

Aramis nodded absentmindedly as he directed his gaze to somewhere far away. He didn’t feel Porthos drying up his torso or taking off his boots or manoeuvring him into a dry shirt. He only returned his attention to his room when he heard the door opening and Athos and d’Artagnan walked in, carrying food and wine.

“It’s done, then?” Athos asked softly. “You buried Marsac?”

Aramis nodded, feeling his throat constrict again. He felt something warm on his shoulder and noticed Porthos wrapping a quilt around him.

“I’m sorry”, Porthos said as he sat down and placed his hand over Aramis’ hands on Aramis’ lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t even stop to think that you might not be feeling okay with the whole Savoy deal. I’m sorry I left you alone with your worst nightmare; all because I thought it would be doing what a deserter wanted…”

“He was my friend too”, Aramis whispered. “Not just a deserter.”

“We know”, Athos said as he sat next to Aramis. “We know you cared for him and sometimes I wish you didn’t, because he left you in that snowy forest where you could have died. I’m sorry I couldn’t see your pain from my anger and that I didn’t help you when you needed us the most.”

“Are we still brothers?” Porthos asked quietly.

“Yes”, Aramis whispered, not trusting his voice. “I just… I needed you two to acknowledge what happened. I forgive you. I forgave you from the moment you stepped inside this room.”

Athos pulled Aramis into a loose embrace and began stroking his damp hair. He hummed a quiet melody from a song he knew Aramis liked. Aramis seemed to deflate in the embrace as Athos sung quietly. D’Artagnan watched the scene in front of him with fascination as his friend revealed a completely new side of himself.

“You need to eat something”, Porthos said to Aramis as he took one of the bowls of broth and held it out to Aramis. Aramis accepted the bowl and began eating slowly while Athos still held him.

“You’ve been very quiet, d’Artagnan”, Aramis said. “Is everything alright? I’m not blaming you for anything; you didn’t know about Savoy or Marsac…”

“I was just wondering if there’s anything I can do to help”, d’Artagnan mumbled. “I’m not good at this stuff but I don’t want to leave you alone…”

“Just stay here for a little while”, Aramis said. “That will help.”

D’Artagnan nodded and sat down on the overcrowded bed. He listened to Athos’ singing as Aramis drew strength from his friends. Sometimes Aramis and even Porthos joined into the song with their rich voices, making d’Artagnan shiver with the sheer beauty of their voices.

At some point, Aramis began to doze off, his cheeks flushed and his forehead warmer than Porthos liked. The trio helped Aramis lie down and Porthos to lie down next to Aramis, holding him in a safe embrace. Aramis curled up, looking much smaller than he really was while Porthos seemed somehow enlarged.

“Keep him safe, Porthos”, Athos whispered as he and d’Artagnan left the room. He and d’Artagnan walked downstairs in silence, hoping that Aramis could sleep even a little.

“I didn’t know you could sing”, d’Artagnan said quietly. “Or that Porthos or Aramis could, either.”

“Don’t even try to make me sing”, Athos grumbled. “I sing only to Aramis, only when he’s not doing well. It soothes him a little.”

“That’s a lot like you”, d’Artagnan said and chuckled. “Will Aramis be alright?”

“Oh, tomorrow he’ll be feverish and miserable”, Athos said, “but later he’ll be doing well again. He’ll just need a little bit of guiding and some hugs, possibly.”

“That’s what he will receive”, d’Artagnan said and began walking away from the garrison. “See you tomorrow, Athos!”

Aramis would be up and going again soon enough.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of an epilogue for the story because I imagined a scene and needed to add it. :D

Porthos woke up instantly when he felt Aramis shuffling. From the way the bed moved, he could tell Aramis was sitting on the edge of it, mumbling quietly. Porthos opened his eyes and stared at Aramis’ hunched form for a moment. He knew Aramis hadn’t had a nightmare because that would have woken Porthos up a long before Aramis would have woken. So Porthos listened. It took him a moment to identify what Aramis was saying, but when he did, his heart constricted.

Aramis was praying. To be precise, he was repeating the same prayer over and over again. At certain points, his voice seemed to falter or break but he wouldn’t stop.

He was praying for the twenty men who died at Savoy and for Marsac who had joined them. He was holding his wooden rosary between his crossed hands, gripping it like his last lifeline on the earth.

Porthos sat up quietly and wrapped his arms around Aramis’ midsection. He leaned his head on Aramis’ shoulder, listening to Aramis’ heartbeats in his throat. As Porthos moved to hold Aramis, Aramis stopped praying for a moment long enough to release a shaky breath and swallow. He then continued praying as if nothing had happened, as if he’d only lost the train of his thoughts for but a moment.

“Come back to sleep”, Porthos whispered after Aramis finished the twenty-first prayer. “You’ve prayed for them all so that they can rest. You can too.”

“No”, Aramis breathed. “One more prayer. I need to say one more prayer and then I’ve laid all the ghosts to rest.”

“For yourself?” Porthos asked quietly. “Will the prayer be for you?”

Aramis nodded, unable to open his mouth and explain what he was thinking. Porthos only hummed and covered Aramis’ crossed hands with his own hands, offering support.

Aramis began praying again, this time quieter and more halting. He seemed to have a lot of trouble finding the words for the prayer as Porthos listened. Every time Aramis would lose himself to his thoughts, Porthos would be there, squeezing his hands and bringing him back to reality.

Aramis prayed for forgiveness and to be set free of the guilt gnawing inside of him. He prayed that he wouldn’t have to succumb to the nightmares again, that he wouldn’t be weighed down by Savoy and everything that had happened to since.

“Amen”, he whispered, Porthos echoing him, as he finished his prayer. Porthos quietly pulled Aramis to lie back down on his back.

“Did it help?” Porthos asked. “The praying. Did it help?”

“I think so”, Aramis mumbled. “I can breathe easier…”

“Good”, Porthos said, tightening his embrace around Aramis. “Let’s sleep. So much has happened in these few days; we both need to rest.”

Aramis nodded, smiling, as he curled up against Porthos, hiding from the world for a little while. Porthos slung his arm over Aramis in a protective gesture, meaning that he’d wake up if Aramis had nightmares.

On that night, he had none.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback feeds and warms my soul, especially now that snow will come soon!


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